Home
by KatieBY
Summary: Molly was sitting in The Burrow's kitchen like she'd done every morning for several decades. There was no point for her being up so early; the numerous mouths to feed were gone. People often said that home is where the heart is, but what happened to those whose heart was on so many sides of the planet, and nowhere at the same time?


**The Houses Competition**

House: GRYFFINDOR

Class: History of Magic

Category: Standard

Prompt: [Emotion] Homesick

Word Count: 2497

**I don't own Harry Potter, I just like to entertain myself a bit with its wonderful characters. I am not a native English speaker, Any grammar mistakes were made unintentionally so I apologize in advance. I have dyslexia and I am still learning English.**

**Special thanks to my Gryffindor team for betaing this chapter**

**HOME**

….

George watched the children run through the park, their laughter ringing through the air. His mind travelled back to his child, who was probably asleep because of the time difference. He wanted to hug him so much that his hands were shaking. Feeling helpless, he kept walking as a tear fell down his cheek.

Someday, he'd be able to hold him again. _Someday._

…..

Molly was sitting in The Burrow's kitchen like she'd done every morning for several decades. The sun had not yet risen on the horizon; she'd woken up very early as usual, always more out of habit than anything else, really. There was no point for her being up so early; the numerous mouths to feed were gone. People often said that home is where the heart is, but what happened to those whose heart was on so many sides of the planet, and nowhere at the same time? When someone feels that their home is in a different time, or even when they are still living in the place they called home for so long, and yet they feel so lost and strange?

The war was not over with the final battle. The magical world, and even the British Muggle world, had fallen into a deep depression from which there seemed to be no way out, full of corruption, crime, and disorder. It'd been the legacy that left the war, and for people who'd suffered so much, it felt that the life they longed for no longer existed. Gringotts had abruptly closed its doors to wizards, taking with it the centuries' worth of savings of many families.

The ministry, or what was left of the corrupt building full of leeches with no respect for citizens, was no different. They'd taken most of the businesses in Diagon Alley, as well as St Mungo's, and even Hogwarts. What could be expected to happen when so many places were taken by the same, dirty hands? Everything had gone to the drain; food, health, and education had deteriorated to the point that they didn't exist.

The kettle whistled, ending the silence that'd enveloped the kitchen and its sole occupant. She slowly smoothed the ragged apron that'd lived through better days, and certainly happier times. While making tea, she could hear small steps going down the stairs.

"Grandma?" Freddie's voice whispered at the bottom of the stairs, his face full of tears.

"What's the matter, love, did you have a bad dream?" she asked.

She approached the five-year-old, wanting to pick him up but feeling pain in her hip; she was too old for this.

"I dreamt that Daddy forgot me. I called him and he didn't come," the boy cried into her neck. "When will I see him, Grandma? I want him by my side."

Molly had no answers to comfort the child since she didn't have answers herself. She would've liked her grandchildren to enjoy the childhood that she and Arthur had given to their children, where the nightmares were nothing more than giant spiders or trolls under the bed.

"Your dad loves you. He works hard for you to be well," she whispered in his ear. "He'll be back soon and will bring you so many gifts."

"Can we call him, Grandma?" he asked, wiping snot from his nose.

"Sure, Freddie, we can call him right now."

…..

_ONE MONTH EARLIER_

_George was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. He had no more options; the high demands of the ministry had led his business to bankruptcy. The opportunities in the United Kingdom, both magical and Muggle, had disappeared, and with a child to feed, he needed to quickly form a plan._

_Standing up, he went to his sleeping son's room, spotting the boy's foot poking out underneath the ragged sheet. He was clean and fed, however, George could feel his own bones under his skin. How long would it be until his son was the same? He'd have to keep going because for him, the health of his son would always be the most important thing. Getting into the small bed, he hugged Freddie tightly against his chest while he cried._

…

_Molly activated a small stone-shaped device, waved her wand, and called her son's name. Smoke furled around it and formed an image. "Mom?" George muttered._

_He appeared confused to see her. He was very disheveled, and had deep, dark circles around his eyes. His face denoted sadness and tiredness._

"_Is it a good time, son? Freddie needed to see you," she said, pointing at the boy in her arms._

_"It's okay, Mom, it's almost lunchtime here," he said as he saw his tearful son. "How is the little man?" George wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiling as best he could._

_"Daddy, I miss you," he said with a pout. "When are you coming home? I want to play on the broom with you."_

_"I miss you too, baby," the man replied. His voice caught, but he refused to let his son see how difficult it was for him to be away. "Soon, we'll be together, champion. Dad has to raise more money and find a nice place where we can live, with a large yard so you can fly."_

_"Okay, Daddy, I love you," Freddie said, blowing him a kiss._

_"And I you, baby, more than my life."_

_"Georgie, are you eating well?" his worried mother asked. She looked very thin and emaciated._

_"Not as much as I would be if you were cooking for me," he replied, winking without any trace of the mischief that'd characterized him before. "I'm taking turns this week; I'll try to send you some money on Friday."_

_"Take care of yourself, son."_

_"Of course, Mom, take care of yourself, too, and Dad and Freddie. Always remind him how much I love him."_

…

Ron was going to work very early, with a great abstinence from the real tea that he'd only get at home. He'd not been there for a few months. The day that he'd woken up and found there was little food in the fridge for his pregnant wife and her growing girl, he decided that he'd have to leave to provide it. He wouldn't condemn his soon-to-arrive son or his beautiful and radiant girl to a life without adequate food. His daughter was always smiling and innocent; she deserved better.

It was a rough road for wizards from England. They were all branded as Death Eaters and criminals—the true criminals had also fled overseas—including the people who were simply deemed 'bad' because they had the same nationality as them. It wasn't very fair to be pigeonholed to everyone in the same box; he just wanted to be home. Hearing his girl cry every day was horrible; it was worse to hear her cry and not be able to comfort her. His wife was not much better; the beautiful stage of pregnancy was tarnished by crying and uncertainty. Her son, still growing in the womb, would be born at any time, and he wouldn't be there to witness it. Even though being at work would ensure that they weren't lacking anything, there was nothing else they wanted more than to be together again.

…

Later in the day, Molly devoted herself to cleaning the shelves full of photos of her children and grandchildren. She carefully cleaned each frame with a damp cloth to prevent dust from accumulating.

There was one with Bill and Charlie in their Hogwarts robes smiling at the camera, while in the background, there was Percy with his nose buried in a book—her always intellectual son. In another photograph, there were the twins chasing little Ron.

Her children were all away from her, pushing each other away by the need for a better life. She missed the big family meals; the always noisy Burrow was now a quiet and reflective place that she still wasn't used to.

The stone that she carried in her apron warmed and began to buzz, and she put it on the ground, waiting for the well-known smoke to materialize.

"Mother?" Percy said from the fog. He wore a cap and was frecklier than ever, pink from sun exposure.

"Percy, honey, how are you?" Molly asked, happy to hear his voice.

"Working hard, Mom. I found a job in this great house, with this great garden," he said with a sad little smile; there was no trace of the pompous Percy he was a few years ago.

"That is wonderful! Did you finally get to exercise your mastery in enchantments?"

Percy had been number one in his class and had achieved the highest grade in Charms. He'd spent years studying, sometimes without sleep; he made her very proud.

"Not yet, Mom. There are some problems with the local authorities; I feel that my master's degree does not meet the specifications for being accredited by a country that's in depression." He sighed. "But I found a better job. I hadn't told you before because I know how you'd react, but there were days when I had no place to sleep."

This made Molly's heart tightened. Did her child sleep on the street?

"However, my new job comes with accommodation, look." Percy held the stone so that a small furnished apartment could be seen around him. He approached the window, showing her the garden. "I'll take care of this garden, Mom. It's lucky that I did it all the time at home, right?"

"Not all the time; from what I remember, you're not a big fan of the mud," his mother said with a sad smile.

"Well, things change, Mom. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Little by little, I'm improving, and working here, I earn much more than my former position in the Department of Mysteries," he said, full of energy. "I just wanted to let you know, Mom. I love you and I hope to help you more from here. Take care of yourself."

"And I love you, Percy," Molly replied tearfully.

Every call was just as heartbreaking as the last; it was so difficult to see these adults who'd left her womb struggling so hard to find a place in the world, just because of the place and time they'd been born.

…..

Percy saw the stars from his bed. His back hurt and he was incredibly exhausted. Watching the sky, he thought of his family; they were so far away, leaving a hole in his heart.

...

Molly went to check Ginny's house; she used to do this with Arthur all the time to prevent it from deteriorating. She made sure there was fresh water in the fridge, that the beds were laid out, and that everything was free of dust. The house itself was a tomb of memories. She'd never admit it, but the people who used to live there no longer existed; time and distance had changed them.

"This could help Hugo when he is born," said Arthur, referring to a small embroidered blanket that he'd found in a drawer in the children's room.

"It's for Albus, Arthur; when they come back, they might need it," Molly said, frowning as she put a fresh sheet on the crib in the room.

"Molly, Albus is no longer a baby; I don't think he uses it," he replied without wanting to mention the obvious; Albus wasn't there.

"Lily might need it, she will be born at any time; Ginny might want to use it," she said slowly as she removed the blanket from his hands and hugged it close; there was nothing left of the tender smell of baby that'd covered it in the past.

She remembered knitting the blanket with her own hands. Ginny's children had filled their afternoons with laughter and diapers after Albus was born. Ginny had had many complications, and Molly was there for her. She was a constant in the life of little Alby when he was a baby; she'd even changed his first diaper, gave him his first bath, and saw him take his first steps. Of course, James, who was three-years-old at the time, was always around. A small restless boy, with a bottomless stomach, he tended to climb her body to hold her cheeks, stick his tiny nose to her face, and say, "I'm hungry, Grandma."

The day they left was one of the most difficult she'd ever faced. She missed her children too much, but seeing her grandchildren leave and knowing that she probably wouldn't see them grow up was one of the most horrible feelings. They'd flourished a lot in a distant country, a country that was full of all the opportunities that were no longer offered in Britain. However, they were now foreign to her language, to her family; James remembered her a little, always blowing kisses on the rare occasions when she did manage to talk to them through the stone.

But with Albus, Molly felt how heartbreaking it was to love a baby. She'd seen him develop, she was there on the day of his birth, she'd held him, cleaned him, comforted him, and yet, one day, he had to go far away. She'd never stop loving someone she took care of so tenderly in the first months of his life, but would he? Alby didn't know her. He was too young when he'd left to be able to remember her. He didn't speak much English, and occasionally, he cried, so he wouldn't be forced to talk to her. He was still a child, she understood, but it hurt a lot.

It was why she preferred to ignore the fact that they probably wouldn't come back. Ginny was about to have another baby—a girl!—and she wouldn't be there to support her or to support her granddaughter.

She cleaned her house every week so that when they returned, Ginny would find everything as before, even if nothing would really be the same.

...

Ginny was holding her baby in her hospital bed. The place was far superior to the dilapidated St Mungo's where Albus had been born. She should've been happy; her baby was perfect, and she had her children and husband by her side. But it was impossible not to see the tender face of her daughter and not yearn for her own mother; every girl needs her mother when she has a child.

She kissed Lily's little head and made the commitment to always remind her where she came from with pride and love, because although at this time she was in such a bad state, it would always be her home.

...

A person can miss their home, even if it means living in the rubble of what it once was, since a home is made by the people, memories, and experiences living in it. There is only hope that one day, they would all be together so that they could be at home once more.

…

_**For my family who have a part of my home and heart with them around the world.**_


End file.
